


dancing with tears in my eyes - fuckles - "tears"

by americanaspacecadet



Series: Misfits One Off Fics [6]
Category: The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: (cam's), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M, POV First Person, Song Fic Kinda?, Song: Dancing With Tears In My Eyes, description explains better oop, kesha always inspires me, sad club hours, soulmate au..?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 14:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20065780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanaspacecadet/pseuds/americanaspacecadet
Summary: prompt: based around kesha’s dancing with tears in my eyes - when you lose someone you loved (and you still love them), you weep colored tears.and cam can’t stop crying those damn emerald tears.





	dancing with tears in my eyes - fuckles - "tears"

Another night at a club, another empty seat next to me. I try not to let it bother me - after all, everyone’s here to have a good time. Why should I ruin that? 

Besides, it’s been a few months since Mason left me. I should be fine by now.

But as I watch him slink around the glowing floor, I can’t help but clench my teeth. I should want to see him happy. He’s my ... friend.

“Cam?”

I jump as Matt gently places his hand on my shoulder, a pitying look in his eyes. I let a breath of a laugh slip from my mouth, knocking back the rest of my drink before brushing off his touch and heading towards the floor.

“I’m just fine!” I call, my easily faked smile slipping on my face like clockwork. Molding into the crowd felt like nothing.

It always feels like nothing.

I could have hundreds of people around me, all swarming for a piece of my heart. And yet, Mason still owns the whole thing. I can practically see it in his grasp - all crinkled and crumpled and barely pumping. Even then, he’s still got a new fling in his lap - his teeth like a military cemetery as he laughs at whatever she said. I cringe as he kisses her, the moment carving itself into my brain. But the crowd whisks me away, and I’m forced to lose him so I can keep in time. 

“Hey!”

Matt’s voice echoes over the music, and his hand wraps around my wrist and yanks me from the mob before I can react. He pulls me into a side room, the thump of the bass still rumbling like an earthquake through the hardwood floor.

“You’re greening again, man.”

I shake his head, the drops tumbling off my face and onto my dark jeans. It’s always dark clothing now. I feel like a sick emo fuck, but I’d rather sit in the dark than stain what little light clothing I have left. Matt pulls out a tissue, holding my chin while he wicks away the soupy stains.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Cam.”

A choked laugh. “It’s worked pretty well so far.”

“I’m serious,” Matt says, holding my gaze with his own. “Your pillowcases are stained. All you wear is black. You’ve gone through more tissue boxes in these last couple months than the average man, and that says something. You need to  _ let go _ .”

“Don’t you think I’m trying?!”

“We all are!” Matt barks, pastel pink beginning to weep down his face. He angrily scrubs at the trails before continuing. “You either hold it in, or let it go. Your choice.”

“Matt -”

“Don’t,” He huffs, his hands tight on my shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. Please.”

I blink, and Matt’s gone, off to the next weeping soul in the club. He’s a mediator - keeping himself busy with other people’s pain so he can avoid his own.

I wish I could learn how to do that.

Instead, I opt for gripping the golden pendant on my neck, heading back into the wall of noise. I catch an opening into the sea of flesh, clean faces and teary eyes dotting the waves. I find a girl with silver tears trickling down her face, and I hold her tight against me. We move like one - all twisting hips and wandering hands.

“Help me forget.”

I open my mouth to speak, but a familiar calloused pair of hands grips my biceps and pulls me away from the silver-lined stranger. Flecks of liquid gold drop onto my chest, soaking into the black fabric like a dying star spreads across the void.

“Cameron.”

The accent is a blade in my ribs, the rehearsed ease of the name rolling off his tongue. Golden tears bubble out of his eyes, halcyon waterfalls on his freckled face.

“Mace, your eyes -”

“I can’t let go,” He whimpers, shimmering paths running down onto his neck. “Why can’t I let go of you, Cam?”

Everything that was once so blurred, so faded, so  _ dull _ \- suddenly snaps into crystal clear focus. 

The club fades away as I pull Mason out of the main room, his body shaking against mine. I slide us down to the floor, holding him close as he sobs.

“C-Cam, this i-isn’t fair,” He weeps, his skin cold against my collarbone. “What w-was I thinking?”

I don’t speak a word - opting instead to hold him tighter against me, the forest colors blurring my vision and threatening to spill. He feels so small in my arms, curled up so tight he might disappear. So I keep him close. A hand on his hip, another on his shoulder blade. My lips in his short-cropped hair, his tears staining my shirt. We stay huddled in the corner, our own little sanctuary in this wild world.

“You’re still shaking, Mace. It’s okay, you’re alright.”

He peers up at me through his shimmering lashes, the yellow tones a stark contrast to his baby blue irises. His hand moves like a snail, softly tracing over my chest and neck before cradling my face like a ceramic - it scares me, how fragile he’s acting.

“Cam,” He murmurs, his voice weak. “I’m sorry.”

His thumb barely brushes over my lip, his fingertips tapping my cheekbone. I lean into his touch, a solemn, bruising ache of heartbreak hammering at my ribcage. He shifts to wrap his legs around my hips, his arms coming over my shoulders while tangling his fingers in my hair.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Y-you have?”

Mason slowly nods. “I still love you, Cameron.”

My heart stops. Drops. Then flings into orbit as Mason’s words register in my grief-stricken mind.

“You still love me?”

“Of course I do,” He murmurs, a soft laugh in his words. “How could I ever stop loving someone like you?”

Laughter bubbles up between the two of us, our smiles still intact as Mason presses his lips to mine. Tears dry, the glittering gold and moody emerald soaking away and disappearing into our skin as Mason’s hands wander over me. Electricity floods my veins as Mason softly bites my lip, whimpers humming in his throat as I trace his skin under his shirt. Time ticks, slows, nearly stops as we sink into our own little world, the scent of sweat and alcohol fading into the background as Mason’s washes over me - all cedarwood and strawberries. His mouth tastes like mint and cheap beer, and I’ve never tasted anything better.

Mason’s mouth leaves mine, and he pushes me back with a gentle hand and a giggle.

“Cammy?”

“Yes, love?”

“Take me home?”

Those three words have never sounded so beautiful.

Mason squeaks as I hoist him up, his legs tightening around my hips and his arms wrapping tighter over my shoulders.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” I mumble, peppering his face in feather-light kisses. “I always missed you.”

The rest of the night passes in flickers - fractals of memories broken by cold liquor and warm drugs. I remember the little things - the Uber’s leather seats, Mason’s lips on my neck, how quickly the sheets warmed up in my icy apartment - but there’s always one big thing I’ll remember.

“Why the fuck am I being called by Toby at 5am?”

Mason lets out a breath of a laugh, bare legs tangling in the blankets. “Put in on speaker. I want to know.”

I oblige. “Hey?”

“Pink, huh?”

Mason looks at the phone with raised eyebrows - the voice was definitely  _ not  _ Toby.

“Matt?”

“Bingo, doll,” Toby says, her voice muffled in the background. “Turns out my black tears weren’t from my mascara after all.”

“I cannot believe -” Mason starts, grumbling as I slap my hand over his mouth.

“Finally got your shit together, McKay?”

“Could say the same about you, mate. Now - I’m happy for the both of you - but please, let us go back to bed.”

“Got busy, huh?” I can hear the taunting tone in his voice.

“Good _ night _ , Matthew.”

Mason giggles as I hang up the phone, tossing it onto the bedside table before pulling Mason to my chest. Gentle kisses are peppered over warm skin, a soft ease hovering in the room that I haven’t felt in months.

“I love you, Cameron.”

My heart catches, then easily beats as I smile into Mason’s hair. “I love you too, Mason. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just a big stupid softy who can handle angst for .02 seconds  
so yeah  
fluff
> 
> i love you all.


End file.
